


All That There Is

by ahhelga



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Groundhog Day, Happy Ending, M/M, Slow Burn, Time Loop, sad viktor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahhelga/pseuds/ahhelga
Summary: “The spring will arrive when the winter is done, and if it’s not tomorrow, then tomorrow or tomorrow, there will be sun.”-Groundhog Day the Musical--Viktor Nikiforov, Russia's own champion and idol, knew he's lived a full life, completely dedicated to the art of skating and achieving so much at his age.When he's literally thrown for a loop, he's left to reflect on what that truly means to him and who is there to protect him from himself.Yet another Sochi Time Loop AU
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 31
Kudos: 38





	1. Prologue: There Will Be Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Maelstrom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8734612) by [feelslikefire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelslikefire/pseuds/feelslikefire). 



_ “Oh if I could, I’d will these clouds away, my love. I’d wave my hand, reveal the stars. Oh if I could, I’d hold the tide at bay, my love. But clouds will come and tides will turn, and all I have to offer is tomorrow.” _

* * *

On days like this one, it's hard not to warm up close to a loved one. The chill set over the city, where typically the winters were not as harsh as it was on this cold day. For many, the spring would come and, soon enough, the winter will pass, for the next day would be quick.

In the Sochi airport, the unprecedented storm went unnoticed by two men. As the winds howled over the glass ceiling, one light haired man stared down at his small notebook of symbols and numbers and calculations. He had just a single thought: what would make this perfect?

Suitcase tight in one hand, notebook in the other, he kept walking through the terminal. He walked without a second glance at the curious stares and Russian language sounding from the TVs, repeating his name as if it were like the wind above.

"--And Russia's number 1 ice skater, Viktor Nikiforov, will head towards the ice. Stay tuned tomorrow for exclusive footage on the Olympic gold medalist's training in Sochi's very own--"

'Tomorrow,' Viktor thought, as he hurried past the screens displaying his face. 'Tomorrow.'

Tomorrow, he will put to practice some of these ideas. Tomorrow, he will try to shed some light onto some of the feelings he had about his program. Tomorrow, he'd figure  _ something _ out about...

‘Tomorrow,’ he thought, as he walked, and walked, and walked, until he walked past someone intently staring up at one of those TVs.

‘Tomorrow,’ they both thought as each of the men crossed paths.

And yet, as so many huddled together in the cold, the two men hadn't so much as looked over their shoulders to notice each other. They couldn't have seen the look of determination in each other's eyes, nor the beauty of the darkened Sochi sky overhead, nor the reflection of a storm brewing in heart and mind.

It's easy to think there will be sun the next day when all you have is your sights in your future. And as Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki passed each other, they were so focused on the next day that they couldn't see themselves in focus.

'Tomorrow,' they both thought. 'Tomorrow.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Maelstrom” has always been a favorite of mine, as I am SUCH a sucker for Time Loop AU. I just wanted so much more of it. As a result, I was so inspired and just kept coming back to this plot for months. I tried my best to keep it separate from the other fic, to the point that I hadn’t reread it at all from the start of my writing to my posting this.
> 
> Despite having started writing this story so long ago, I've been hesitant to post because 1) I was nervous about the similarities to other stories, and 2) this is incredibly self indulgent, written largely because I listen to the Groundhog Day the Musical OST a little too much. My story largely takes from the musical, to which I'll make references throughout, including each chapter title and quote.


	2. Day One

_  
“Who is that? Who is that? Emerging from his burrow? Who can see today what we won’t see until tomorrow?”  
_

_  
_

__

* * *

__

Four time Worlds champion for men’s solo ice skating Viktor Nikiforov woke up to some pop tune that he had set as his ringtone. Remembering what day it was, Viktor picked up the phone. Even in the haze of morning, he knew who would be calling this early.

__

“Oh good, you’re up,” opened Yakov in their native language.

__

Viktor hummed and began getting up. “All thanks to you.”

__

Yakov huffed in response. “I don’t need your sass, and neither do you have time for it. You’ve got a long day ahead, starting with me. Be at the practice rink, 7am sharp.”

__

“7am, sharp,” Viktor repeated absently.

__

“I know that tone,” Yakov growled, “Like I said, 7am,  _ sharp _ .”

__

He hung up. “Yes, coach,” Viktor said into the silent phone.

__

Viktor Nikiforov was a smart man. He did not get to being at the top for so long without knowing he had to be at certain meetings on time or to ignore his coach. He just liked to do things in his own way. 

__

‘And in my own style,’ Viktor thought, as he considered his closet.

__

He had brought on this trip a significant amount of clothing for all types of occasions; it was, after all, a special event, and a special event called for an extensive wardrobe. He began to carefully, critically lay out his clothes to figure out what he was going to wear for the day. Did he want to dress “winter wonderland” or “ready for the ice”? What demeanor, what look, should he go into the Grand Prix Final with? How did he want the world to see him as he stepped forward into the first of the press conferences today?

__

There were only so many days one lived, and it was important to represent yourself in as best as possible, every day. He also was well aware of the millions of eyes on him, especially over the next few days, so he knew he was going to look his damned best.

__

Viktor spent the better part of the hour looking through each outfit and then getting ready for the day.

__

It was a good thing he spent so long doing so, too, because in the fifteen minute walk to the ice rink, he ran into some ISU officials he was acquainted with. On the walk, he joked with them about the crazy weather the night before and some ribbing about Russian pride. And before reaching the venue, they separated with grins on, especially Viktor. As any professional would tell you, ice skaters had to perform on the ice and off the ice; it wasn't a fun part of the job, but it got him deals and sponsorships and a lot less headache later on. There was a reason he was an ISU favorite. 

__

He smiled all the way to Yakov’s makeshift office at the main rink. He’d been here before for the Olympics, but the building felt just as grand as it did then. It was a reminder that he was here with a goal in mind. 

__

And right in the middle of the entrance was exactly whom he expected.

__

Ah, Yakov and his beautiful smiling face.

__

“Viktor! You’re late,” his coach growled out. 

__

His frown deepened as Viktor sauntered his way up to him, and then kissed the sides of his cheeks. Then, Viktor very casually, gracefully lifted his wrist and revealed an elegant watch. 

__

“Oh? Is that the time?” Viktor said, still looking at the watch. He then gave a charming grin to Yakov and showed him the time. “It’s 7:02! I’m right on time.”

__

Viktor laughed and wrapped an arm around Yakov’s neck. On their way in, Yakov scowled as Viktor winked at a young security guard. 

__

“I don’t like your attitude this morning,” Yakov muttered to Viktor as he kept blowing kisses to officials and workers along the way to the office. He crossed his arms. “It’s that Giacometti; you’ve been hanging around him too much lately.”

__

“Don’t worry, Yakov,” Viktor said just as softly and perhaps a touch more warmly. “My attitude this morning doesn’t change anything about the competition. I came here to win.”

__

“Mm, good, because we’ve still got work to do.” 

__

The rest of their hour together was taken more seriously as Viktor considered his game plan for the Grand Prix Final. They had already fleshed out everything up to this point, but Viktor and his coach always liked to spend the days before any competition working out a plan of action. 

__

While Yakov liked to have a plan B, C, and D, and further liked to detail those plans out, Viktor didn’t think about back up in that way and instead liked to imagine surprises that would excite him and the audience. Yakov didn’t know half the time that that was what he was focusing on (“Mere tricks to titillate the crowd. Why don’t you ever listen to my concrete - proven - methods?”), but Viktor liked to be in his head while they were together all the same. 

__

Sometime after discussing potential triple axel issues, the door slammed open to reveal a whirl of blonde and black. 

__

“Ah, Yura, you’ve finally joined us!” Viktor greeted his young teammate amicably. His smile twitched downward when he took note of the time. It was almost an hour past the time they said they were all going to meet up. 

__

Yuri plopped into a chair as Yakov scolded him for being so disruptive. “Yuri! Don’t just burst into an important meeting - and don’t just  _ show up _ and burst in an hour late into the meeting!”

__

“Ah?! I’ve been up since six thirty and nobody bothered to tell me about it!”

__

Yakov harrumphed, glancing at Viktor and saying that Yuri had always complained about the meetings, that he wouldn’t even want to be a part of the meeting. The young blonde got red in the face and made an insulting face at their coach, who then proceeded to go into a yelling tirade.

__

Viktor looked over to Yuri, almost admiring the ballsy move, but he would have gone about the whole rebelliousness a whole different way. He almost wanted to reach out and ask Yuri if he knew just what he was up against in a couple of days. When Yuri huffed and stared off at a wall, Viktor decided better of it.

__

Ladies’ and pairs’ short programs began tomorrow. Men’s short was the next day, and then following that, the free for consecutive days. It applied to both the Juniors and Seniors, so Viktor figured how Yuri must have been feeling. Yet, sometimes, it was a hard read to get on the boy.

__

“Vitya, were you able to watch each competitor’s previous competition performances?” Yakov asked him as the meeting went on.

__

Admittedly, he hadn’t yet. He had analyzed the _scoring_ , in order to tackle the best combination of technical and PCS scores in his own performances, but he made it a point to watch the actual programs later on. Conversation continued on like this until Viktor heard a stirring next to him.

__

“What if one of the performers decides to one-up Viktor’s surprises?” Yuri asked.

__

“Ehh, I’d like to see ‘em try,” Yakov boasted. “Vitya always surprises the crowd.”

__

“Isn’t that boring?” Yuri goaded. 

__

Viktor chuckled heartily, and yet something itched at Viktor’s chest at that. He decided to ignore Yuri’s words. He was here with a goal, after all. 

__

“Yura, you’re young,” Viktor replied, a touch mockingly. Nothing like a little bit of teasing between teammates to keep him spry. “You’ll see I’ll do just fine.”

__

Yuri scowled. “Fine, old man. Whatever.”

__

“Anyway, Yuri,” Yakov intervened. “If you just stick to the plan, you don’t have to worry about anybody else. Just look at Viktor.”

__

“I’ll win however I want,” Yuri bit back.

__

In the middle of their back and forth, Viktor sighed. “Anyway, it’s been fun, but I have plans now.”

__

“What? Plans? Prepping for the press circuit later on?” Yakov asked.

__

“Something like that.” 

__

“Don’t you dare get into trouble two days before competition.”

__

“Oh Coach Yakov, would I ever do that to you?”

__

“Yes. Yes, you would.”

__

Viktor laughed and walked out the door, calling, “Oh, and Yuri, don’t give our poor coach too hard of a time. Bye!”

__

The truth was, he didn’t really have plans, but he wanted to get into the mood of the competition, which  _ really  _ wasn’t coming to him by being cooped in a room with his coach and his teenage teammate. And, considering he was already at the rink, it didn’t hurt to scope out what his competitors were up to.

__

The venue was well put together, and there was a bit of hustle even at this hour, but nonetheless, during his walk around hardly anybody paid him any attention aside from the starstruck glance. There was an air of thrill all around as everyone was prepping for the Grand Prix Final. Considering it was the biggest event so far in the competition season, he took it just as seriously. It was just important that he had a cordial face on while he walked around.

__

The rink was open, clean, and a couple of skaters were already practicing with their coaches. A pair from Canada drilled their twizzles and a dark haired woman worked through a step sequence. Then, a man entered the ice and started to skate around as a warm up.

__

Viktor recognized Michele Crispino as he tried to loosen up, but he seemed too engrossed in the other woman on the ice to do so. Was it a lover? Viktor thought fleetingly. It didn’t matter, but at least from where Viktor was standing, he could see the stiffness in Crispino’s legs before leading into a turn and the hesitance before a jump. It was a practice right before a big competition, so Viktor could imagine the Italian skater was still getting into the groove.

__

Viktor passively watched for moments more, making a resolve to watch all his competitors once and for all. He was determined to see this competition through, but he felt like… he felt like he still had to get into the right headspace. 

__

When he’d realized he had seen enough to realize that he wouldn’t get the exact feeling right there and then, Viktor walked away, politely waving at a fan who yelled out to him from a distance, calling, “Well if it’s isn’t Viktor Nikiforov!”

__

Roaming an arena had always felt good to Viktor. Viktor thrived in exploration, but also navigating the social scene of ice skating. It was such a mix of drama queens and serious competitors that he loved to take in the different personalities and people-watch. It also helped that he was able to play it so that he was the most compelling person in the room. That wasn’t what he was going for right now as he walked around, but it helped in a moment’s notice.

__

He had passed an old competitor, Cao Bin, and nodded amicably at the man. He would have stopped to talk, but he seemed to be in conversation with a coach or choreographer. Besides, Viktor had never been too friendly with the Chinese man. 

__

There were few competitors he was truly friendly with, Chris excluded. He knew there were definitely more skaters he was not well acquainted with, and he was fine keeping it that way, so long as he got to that gold. He was fine watching everyone from afar.

__

And he certainly wasn’t alone in using the arena as a way to get in the zone. Past the press area, was a relatively quiet hallway that Viktor had never seen before. In an exploring mood, he took a look around the corner and found someone seemingly taking advantage of the quiet hall.

__

With a strange energy surrounding him, a man stretched in a lone corridor. Only skaters would be doing a standing pike stretch here at this time mid-morning. However, Viktor didn’t seem to recognize this man at all. 

__

He hovered a little at the opening of the hallway, vaguely curious (and interested at the bend that  _ emphasized _ the man’s round behind). He quickly brushed away the thought, just watching. As the dark-haired man came up from his stretch, standing at full length, he adjusted his glasses and just stared at the wall in front of him. There was a beat, and something in Viktor tugged.

__

He wouldn’t be able to explain it, but he understood the man’s reasoning to just… stand there and stare at a wall.

__

The other man turned enough so that Viktor could see his face, long eyelashes downturned. 

__

Viktor registered the stretching man as Asian. Considering his build, that meant he could have been one of the competitors for the pair skaters, or the last skater he was competing against, Yuuri Katsuki of Japan. 

__

As far as he could tell, if this was Katsuki, he looked different from the press photos that he saw of his competitors. He knew Yuuri Katsuki was an accomplished Japanese skater but choked in big competitions. He got decent scores, but was never higher on the radar for Viktor. (Yakov was right; he should have paid more attention to his competitors this year, so he could know what he was getting into here.) The skater sighed, as if he could hear Viktor’s thoughts.

__

It was at that moment that Viktor realized that the other man’s eyes were red with tears. Clearly, he did not want to be bothered, and yet…

__

Here was Viktor, staring him down in a hallway, unannounced.

__

It was awkward.

__

So awkward that all Viktor could do was blink mutely at the other man before just abruptly speeding away. He had to get  _ away _ from that corridor, especially before he was caught. By the time he was rushing into the next hallway, he could barely think about the near-encounter when--

__

“It’s Viktor Nikiforov!”

__

“Oh my gosh, we’re big fans!”

__

Already far from the hidden hallway, he had enough chance to gather himself for his fans. Turning around, Viktor instantly put on a welcoming smile for the two girls in front of him. He took note of the young women with VIP badges, in which he knew meant that they paid extra to sit in to watch the practice. They probably paid for those passes for exactly moments like this one. 

__

It was a good reminder that he had to keep his A-game on during this entire competition. He shouldn’t be lurking in hallways, creeping on competitors.

__

“Ah! It really  _ is _ you!” gushed one of the fans. “Would you believe that the last time I was at the GPF a few years ago, you and I took a selfie! I still have it as my background!”

__

She showed him her picture of the two of them years younger, just after Viktor had cut his hair. Aside from the fact that he met fans daily, he knew he wouldn’t have remembered her considering how he felt at the time that picture was taken. It’d been much like how it was now, and how he--

__

He squashed the thought.  _ A-game. _

__

“Would you like to recreate the picture? Anything for those loyal to me for so long! You’ll cheer me on in two days, won’t you?” he played coy with them. 

__

“Of course! I’ve loved your skating since I was little,” said one of the girls, while the other agreed, “Yes! Such an inspiration!”

__

They all giggled and came in for a selfie. Just as he was going to take the shot, his arm extended to capture all three of them, he heard and saw a familiar bottle blonde through the back camera on the phone screen. 

__

“ _ Viktor _ ! Finally I caught sight of your cute behind.”

__

Viktor glanced back, and found his friend. “Ah, Chris. Always ready as ever. Would you mind gracing our selfie so that we can give these ladies a picture to treasure forever?”

__

“Ladies, do you mind if I jump into your picture?” Chris asked smoothly. “And then steal away Viktor?”

__

The girls giggled again, excited to have two finalists in the same picture. They took the selfie, and soon Chris and Viktor were left alone to talk.

__

Chris took his arm, squeezing it. “I see that no matter where I meet you, you’re in the process of being the perfect ice prince.”

__

Viktor rolled his eyes at that. “Wow. I haven’t seen you for weeks, and you’re accusing me of playing a role.”

__

“Well, if the shoe fits, mon amie,” Chris threw back with a light smile.

__

Viktor laughed and then pulled in his friend for a hug. “I’ve missed you. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

__

“Mm, yes. In fact, if you don’t have press stuff, we should go out and check out the local sights. You can show me around Sochi, we can shop, it’ll be a good time.”

__

Viktor’s lips quirked down. “You know I’m busy on the days leading up to competition, and you should be too. Wouldn’t you like sometime to start early in the season before your  _ grand finish _ at the end of every season?”

__

Chris waved him off. “The days before, I get ready for competition by relaxing and practicing, and  _ you _ get ready by getting in some sort of ‘zone’--all in order to make some last minute decision to wow the crowd to make some sort of statement. It’s  _ always _ about wowing the crowd.”

__

They were close enough that they could joke around like this. But the tone of Christophe’s words threw him off, which reminded him of what Yura said in the meeting earlier. It irked him.

__

“No, I’ve just got to take care of some stuff. And yes, I do have interviews and commercials to do soon.”

__

Chris made a face at Viktor, but didn’t say anything. Viktor knew Chris long enough to know that he was holding back something.

__

“Oh Chris--in any case, didn’t you hear?” He decided to soften his refusal. “Sochi is in one of its biggest storms ever! It’s a bad idea to be outside.”

__

“Mmhm, but how bad does it get in a beach town anyway? Come on, Viktor, I just want to hang out with you. We can even bring my new choreographer, anything. It’s been--we just need to hang.” Chris’s voice wavered a little, but Viktor ignored it.

__

“Sorry, after the gold, you know how it goes.”

__

“Right. You mean after  _ my _ gold.” Chris’s face fell back into a teasing smile. 

__

Viktor knew they left in good faith as they laughed it off, but he still felt irked even after they said goodbye to one another. 

__

And while he wasn’t outright lying to Chris about being busy, as it was, he did have some time to kill before he had to be back on the ice to film a promotional video. 

__

Somehow, he found himself in the hallway where he found Yuuri Katsuki stretching earlier. The Japanese man wasn’t there anymore, so he took in the private corner to himself. Between the dull, calming color of the beige walls and the uncharacteristic quiet, Viktor could see why this was a good spot to stretch.

__

He ended up losing track of time stretching in the hallway before he realized it was almost time to meet the film crew for the commercial, get back onto the ice, and test some adjustments to his programs. By the time he was changed and ready for practice after jumps for the promo, there were plenty of people on the rink, with fans and press that were watching on the sidelines.

__

He was cordial to the crew and waved at the crowd before he ignored them all, just as he ignored a thought at the back of his head. It sounded a lot like Chris’s voice that he was just getting in his competition “zone.” He skated the feeling out, getting lost in his drills for potentially surprising moves. 

__

Before long, some time had passed. Viktor knew he was hogging the ice. But he also knew that as  _ Viktor Nikiforov _ , he could stay on the ice for as long as he wanted to. Still, being snowed in, the skaters were crowded in the arena in such a limited space. And really, he should be so considerate for the skaters who really needed that practice time. 

__

“Oy, shouldn’t you eat something?” 

__

Yura was in skating gear as well, clearly having finished his practice too. Viktor hadn’t noticed him on the ice since he was deep in his own skating. 

__

“I had breakfast with Yakov when we were meeting earlier.”

__

“And now it’s almost 1 o’clock! Yakov’s going to have your head if you don’t have enough energy for your skate. I’m starving. Let’s go.”

__

“Mm, I think I’m going to work on my routine a bit some more instead,” Viktor said amicably, even though he was just thinking of leaving. “You go on ahead, do whatever you’d like, whatever it is you do.”

__

At that, Yuri growled at him, which reminded him of an angry kitten.

__

“Fine! Call me a kitten! Call me whatever the fuck you want, dog breath! I’m out of here!”

__

As he watched Yuri walk away, he muttered, “I must have said that out loud. Oh well.”

__

It was good anyway because his run-in with Yuri earlier reminded him that he did need to nail another idea he had in his head for weeks. It was sure to make his performance really stand out during the competition. And when his stomach growled, he obediently listened to his body as he wanted to be fueled up to be in his best shape.

__

His lunch was a private affair of just himself, his phone, and his notepad. After deciding that he  _ should _ properly watch his competition, he wanted to take notes on what his competitors were likely to change to boost their scores for the Final.

__

Watching videos of each of the free skates and GPF compilations, he jotted down Cao Bin’s clean jumps, and the Canadian’s riskiness. He noted the potential of Chris’s quad lutz, which he was well familiar with after having many rinkside conversations about jumps, and Crispino’s combinations, someone he was less familiar with. He viewed more videos of the Italian, trying to pinpoint any potential growth or new moves that could show up in two days time. And then he watched Katsuki’s.

__

Viktor had a hard time reconciling the crying man in the hallway with Japan’s ace. An all right skater whose highest competition score with an unimpressive GOE. Katsuki had a look of determination, even as his jumps were weak and many of his rotations slow. Still, there was a clear musicality in his movement, one that reminded Viktor of his own.

__

‘Ah, he’s a fan,’ Viktor thought as Yuuri pulled into combination spins that mimicked an earlier performance of Viktor’s. When one gets to be a legend, it ends up being common enough to find fellow professionals who imitate the legend’s style.

__

At some point, Yakov had found him sitting alone in the empty conference room taking notes on the others’ previous performances. 

__

“Vitya,” his coach said gruffly, but with a lot less bite than typical. “Interviews and sponsor meetings in half an hour. D’you think you’re ready for them?”

__

While the question from coach to student wouldn’t sound odd to anyone else, Viktor furrowed his brows at the uncharacteristic sympathy.

__

“Ahh, are you worried about me, coach?” He winked up at the old man. “I’m about to finish up, so don’t you worry your bald head. I’ll be there.” 

__

He got a growl and a heel spin in response, Yakov muttering “narrow-headed, little--” under his breath. 

__

Despite it being midday, when Viktor left the enclosed conference room, the windows still revealed a dark day. He paused for a moment to watch the heavy storm bang against the windows of the stadium.

__

The wind and hail seemed to smack the walls in rhythm. Viktor mused that he could make a performance out of the din of the storm.

__

“Viktor~! Good luck!” Two female skaters greeted him simultaneously, bringing him out of his thoughts.

__

He greeted them back before heading to the press room, where a series of reporters and sponsors waited for Russia’s number one athlete.

__

And his interviews went perfectly.

__

It helped that he was in his home country, familiar as he was with the journalists asking questions verging on celebrity gossip. And yet they always tied back to his skating. He knew what to expect, and he delivered with just enough flair.

__

But the press session was  _ over _ , he was exhausted, and all despite it being only 7:30pm, according to his watch. Viktor thought about having a drink and some dinner at a local eatery when some journalists he was friendly with caught sight of him.

__

“Ah, Viktor,” said one journalist from a national TV station. “Yulia and I were going to grab some food. Care to join us?”

__

In actuality, he was not in the mood for conversation, but showtime was showtime. And he knew how important it was to put on a good face.

__

“Of course! Let’s go somewhere where we don’t have to deal with this awful rain.”

__

“Yeah, what’s up with it? Just our luck that the competition happens to occur during such unprecedented weather.”

__

They ended up going to a restaurant attached to Viktor’s hotel, which was decent enough, but dry and close to his bedroom, which was the most important thing to him at the moment. 

__

If there was anything outside of skating, it was that Viktor knew how to woo the press. He’d smile charmingly, flirt carelessly, and still turn it back to his career. It was, after all, his mistress, and he’d never actually deny her. (Both Yulia and Evgeny were disappointed by his lack of interest in anything more that night.) Viktor had played this game so many times in his life to know what to expect.

__

At the thought, he wanted to go back to his room more than ever. And when they all did depart from each other at nearly 9pm, Viktor didn’t show any hint of this detachment, simply kissing the cheeks of his dinner companions lightly.

__

It was in this mood that Viktor reached the hallway to the elevator, ready to settle back in his room. He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost didn’t realize that one of the elevators that was going up was starting to close.

__

“Ah, please hold it!” Viktor called out, but he just saw that the doors were about to shut.

__

He’d slipped in just as the doors almost closed on him and let out a sigh before pressing the button to his floor.

__

The number just below his was lit up, so he threw a glance at his elevator companion.

__

It was Yuuri Katsuki. The one who was stretching in the hallway earlier. It made sense that he was here since all the competitors stayed at the same hotel. Viktor was glad to notice that the Japanese skater didn’t seem to be crying this time around.

__

Viktor realized that he didn’t get a chance to watch him skate during the on ice practice time. He’d only seen Katsuki’s limited skills in the single video he watched during lunch. But that didn’t particularly matter since it wasn’t as if Yuuri would care what Viktor was up to. 

__

At least it was a fellow ice skater in the elevator with him, not some fanboy.

__

“Ah, good evening!” His grin tugged at the same muscles as it had with the press earlier. 

__

At his greeting, Yuuri looked positively terrified, though Viktor couldn’t understand why. Maybe he didn’t understand English? No, Viktor knew he spoke English well from one of the compilation videos of his competitors’ interviews. 

__

Maybe he didn’t want to interact with the competition beforehand. Though that was not how Viktor operated, he could understand that. Especially since he was Viktor Nikiforov. Maybe he didn’t like Viktor  _ because _ he was Viktor Nikiforov.

__

It was just strange that Yuuri Katsuki hadn’t said a thing to Viktor so far.

__

He approached the conversation coquettishly, “I take it you’re not  _ actually _ a fan?”

__

“Wh-what?”

__

“You know, nothing to say?”

__

Yuuri swallowed, but looked down. “I guess not.”

__

He now wore a similar expression to the one he wore earlier, when he had been stretching in the hallway. Viktor didn’t know if the man perpetually looked a tinge sad or if he was feeling the nerves, nor did he really care to cheer the other man up particularly. He was pretty bad at doing that.

__

Still, because of the awkward silence filling the elevator, Viktor felt a sort of obligation to say something. “Well, if it will make you feel better, I can wave at you from the podium when--”

__

“I don’t need that. You’ve done it all, so there’s no need to feel like you need to say something nice, just ‘cause…”

__

Yuuri, still looking down at the ground, twisted his head away from Viktor a bit. From the edge of his cheeks, Viktor could see his face crumple a bit.

__

The elevator doors finally opened, and Yuuri slipped out immediately with a muttered “excuse me.”

__

The whole exchange left Viktor feeling… something. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly he was feeling, but he carried it into his room and as he got ready for bed.

__

It was only 9:30pm by the end of his face routine.

__

He supposed it was better to get a good night’s sleep, so there was nothing wrong with lying in bed at this hour. He had gotten up relatively early and practiced for hours, after all. 

__

But as he laid down on crisp sheets, his exhaustion couldn’t compete with his head.

__

In the darkness of his room, Viktor stared up at the ceiling. Even though he knew there was a storm outside, he could hear nothing but his breathing, see nothing but a dim light reflected overhead. The blankness of its off white sheen seemed a reflection of his face. The whole day left his chest feeling... 

__

‘Have I done it all?’

__

The emptiness in his chest seemed to sag with weight. How bizarre that he could feel like nothing and bogged down all at once. The feeling felt a lot like his day.

__

“Is this all there is?” he asked out loud.

__

With some guilt, his thoughts flickered to Makkachin. He’d forgotten to call the dog sitter, and made a resolve to do so in the morning. He rolled over, tired of looking at nothing. After all, his dog would always be there, just as his drive for the competition. Or would his passion always be there? Would it continue once he reached gold, again? What was ahead of him now that he’s continuously met his goals? What was ahead of him? What was ahead of him?

__

The question hung heavy like a paperweight preventing the looseleaf of his heart from whipping away. It felt important to cling onto this question, but he wasn’t sure why. So, it began to fade away into a forgotten stupor. With the storm just outside his window, he let sleep take over.

__

He would deal with it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happening in our day 1! But there is still so much more in store for our sad Viktor.


	3. Day 2

_“Come on Phil, wake up, get it together: it must be the weather; it must be the stress.”_

* * *

Four time Worlds champion for men’s solo ice skating Viktor Nikiforov woke up to some pop tune that he had set as his ringtone. His eyes slowly opened as he sighed. Today, the Grand Prix Final started. Tomorrow, his competition day. 

He absently answered the phone, predicting the person on the other end correctly.

“Oh good, you’re up,” greeted Yakov.

Viktor grumbled, “Didn’t I prove to you yesterday that I am more than capable of getting up and to the rink on time by myself?” 

“Huh? What are you talking about, boy?” Yakov shot back. Still coming out of his morning haze, Viktor didn’t know how to respond. Yakov continued, “Regardless, I don’t have time for your nonsense and neither do you. You’ve got a long day ahead, starting with me. Be at the practice rink, 7am sharp.”

“Hm? Didn’t you say to meet at 8am today?” Viktor said, pulling the sheets further up. He was granted an extra half hour of sleep, and he was going to take it, despite having slept for over eight hours. Probably from the extra sleep, he was still so tired.

“I never said such a thing, so I still expect you at the rink. 7am, _sharp_ ,” Yakov growled. He then hung up.

“7am, sharp, mm.” Viktor frowned, slowly making his way to get up.

He was awake now anyway, and there was no better time than the present to get ready for this big day if he was granted the extra time. He thought of all that he needed to do: more press, a yoga session, maybe actually have lunch with Chris and catch up. He would call the dog sitter, as he told himself the night before, after he got that all done. Then, the opening ceremony and show up to a few of the ladies’ skates to save face. 

Yesterday, he had decided to go with a “winter wonderland” look, but today he opted for a strong statement. An outfit that said “A-Game.” He decided to go with bold colors. He was here to _compete_.

This was his mindset as he stepped out of the hotel and to the rink, but as he walked, he saw ahead of him the same officials from yesterday. Since he was already dedicated to being in “competition” mode, he opted to take another route and work out his routine mentally instead. 

When he reached the makeshift office, Yakov wasn't there yet. He glanced at his watch and saw that he was right on time. Strange. Even stranger was the fact that all the same paperwork was there yesterday, when he knew that they had cleaned it out for his interviews and sponsor meetings yesterday. He wondered why Yakov would go the extra effort to take out their old notes.

Bored from waiting for Yakov and not liking to waste this precious competition time, Viktor decided to practice skating at the rink. As he walked, he realized that there were hardly any of the junior or female skating teams out and about, which was strange considering they were going to compete later on in the day.

And when he got to the rink itself, he saw the same people practicing from yesterday morning there. He glanced at his watch, furrowing his brow. Shouldn't the female competitors be getting ready and warming up for their turn? And where was the press prepping their stations? And no spectators in the seats getting their head start on the day? Viktor tapped his finger on his lips as he took in the scene. 

“ _Vitya_! There you are!”

“Ah Yakov! There _you_ are!”

“Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you! Our meeting was supposed to be an hour ago!”

Yakov stomped over to where Viktor was standing by the rink, where he was watching the same performers from yesterday (oddly in the same clothing - surely they have more sense of style than that?). Behind Yakov trailed a bored looking Yuri. When the teenager made eye contact with Viktor, he scoffed, as if the other man was beneath him. 

Viktor ignored him. “Mm? I went straight to the meeting room, but you weren't there, so I left. Anyway, don't you find it strange that nobody is here yet?”

“Vitya, it's 8 in the morning on the practice day. What were you expecting?”

Viktor waved a hand. “Sure, sure _I'm_ practicing, but the ladies? Where's Mila?”

“That hag is getting breakfast with her boyfriend.” Yuri rolled his eyes, and, seeming to think that he had better things to do than talk about the other competitors, made a face before stomping away to some vending machine. 

Viktor turned to Yakov. “That's a strange choice for Mila. And you let her go, coach?”

“Eh? Now you care about training habits? Worry about yourself first and then we'll talk about your teammates! I really don’t like your attitude this morning. It’s that Giacometti; you’ve been hanging around him too much lately.” He crossed his arms, emphasizing his point. 

“Yakov, I think your age is getting to you. You already told me that yesterday."

“What are you on about? I’m telling you that you need to get your head out of your ass, sit that ass down, and discuss your plan, and then you go to that promotional shoot later on.”

For all the sympathy he was giving him yesterday, Yakov really just wanted to pack his schedule, it seemed. “I thought I was going to practice all day, so I wanted to get on that…”

“No. We meet now.”

“Um. Okay. If you want to meet, I’ll text Yura to come back since he was so adamant about attending the meeting last time.”

Yakov waved him off. “The boy can do whatever for now. I’ll talk to him after I talk to you.”

Somehow, Viktor didn’t think that was fair and texted Yuri anyway about the meeting they were about to have. The teenager only responded with an angry emoji. Somehow, Viktor knew that meant he was coming in anyway.

When Yakov led Viktor into the meeting room, he launched into a game plan that was almost word for word identical to the one yesterday. Viktor listened for a few minutes, mouth agape. Maybe the old man really was losing his marbles.

“--and when you pull out of the--”

“Oh _no_ , Yakov,” Viktor moaned and cried dramatically.

“What? What is it?” 

“I didn’t know dementia could settle in this early!” Viktor cried, wrapping his arms around his bald head and gave it a rub. “Well, I suppose it’s not too early, given the fact that--”

“What on earth are you talking about?!” The coach pushed off his student, who looked at him with steely concerned eyes.

“Coach… do not be alarmed, but…” Viktor said. “You seem to have lost your memory of our planning yesterday.”

Yakov’s face became red at that - “Wow! Like a tomato!” - before unleashing a tirade of how Viktor was not taking their meeting seriously and that he shouldn’t dismiss these very important last sessions to set up a game plan at the _Grand Prix Final!_

After a moment of Yakov yawping, Yuri swung the door open, Starbucks in hand. The teenager looked between the two of them sitting at the table. “What’s he yelling about this time?”

‘Finally, someone else who could knock some sense into our coach!’ Viktor grinned to himself. 

“Yura, please remind our coach that he already went over plans B, C, and D during our meeting all together yesterday?”

“We never _had_ a meeting all _together_ yesterday,” huffed Yuri before taking a sip of his drink.

“Fine, in the meeting Yakov and I had before you joined us an hour afterwards.”

Mid sip, Yuri gave him a long, odd look at that. 

“I don’t have time for this,” he grumbled before standing up and stepping back out.

As Yuri walked away, Yakov turned his attention to him, “Yura! Don’t you dare walk out when you just burst into our meeting, and burst in late at that! We have work to do!”

They both stared as the door slammed closed before Yakov spun back around to Viktor. “Argh, that boy. And you--stop making ridiculous claims about meetings and my memory! You have two days before you take two the ice and you still haven’t nailed down this last element. Tell me you saw the competition videos already?”

“I did… yesterday.” Viktor squinted at his coach, realizing he said “two days before” the competition. This memory problem was more serious than he’d realized. 

Yakov seemed to calm down after that. “Mm, good, then we can try to maximize where your strengths lie versus the weaknesses in the other skates.”

Viktor swallowed, not sure he wanted another tirade from Yakov and agreed. Besides, he can think about those elements in practice today. Maybe he could rest and nap before the opening ceremony.

“I think I’ll do that when I rest today.”

“You’re not going to do the press circuit? What about the interviews with Evgeny and the others?” 

Which he’d done yesterday. Yakov must be _really_ out of sorts. 

Viktor shook his head: better to pick his battles. “They’ll understand. They have material on me and my skates anyway, and they’re going to do a round of interviews tomorrow rinkside anyway. I’m going to take a rest day before the competition, instead.” ‘So I can look up what the heck has gotten into you,’ he mentally added.

Yakov gave him an odd look. “If you’re sure. This is unlike you, Vitya. You usually work yourself harder just before a competition.”

“I’ve worked enough before today,” Viktor shrugged and smiled placidly. Besides, he really was still out of sorts, faintly registering that hovering feeling from yesterday that didn’t seem to go away. 

“I suppose so… But that doesn’t mean you should neglect these plans, they’re--”

“They’re good,” Viktor agreed, before rattling off the main components to show Yakov that he _knew_ what the back up plans were. 

“All right. If you need the rest, then.” Yakov grumbled before looking down at his papers and notebooks. 

It was a strange end to the meeting. Then again, it was a strange start to the day. With Yakov and Yura acting oddly, and the weirdness of the rink, Viktor wanted to put it behind him and do a practice run of his programs, just like he promised Yakov. 

But first, he sent a text to Lilia, someone he was well aware that he rarely messaged (did she even know how to text?). Yet, he felt she would be the only one who could do anything. 

‘Could you check on Yakov? He does not seem to be fit to be a coach at the moment.’

That seemed sufficient enough. Now that it was just about to be the competition, he didn’t want Yakov to suddenly go off the deep end. Maybe he could enlist the help of his other rinkmates if this carried on.

He looked around for anyone he recognized, but surprisingly, it was still relatively empty at the arena, which was stranger and stranger as it was getting closer to competition time.

Had he gotten the day wrong perhaps? Wrote it wrong in his calendar? No, he was good about keeping track of dates and the time.

His heart rate picking up, Viktor resolved to go to the rink. That would put him at ease. Even if it was the ladies’ turn to practice on the main ice, they would let him, living legend on the ice, have his time for practice, wouldn’t they?

‘I just have to skate off this weirdness.’

But it only got stranger when he reached the rink after changing into his gear. There were barely any women warming up, even though they had priority to practice today. In fact, he saw just the one dark haired woman from before skating in twizzles before joining in circles with Michele Crispino, and the Canadian pair skaters. No Mila in sight. None of the Chinese contenders, nor the new young American girl causing a whirlwind, nor the numerous other females in their division. 

Just the same people he saw on the ice yesterday.

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. Lilia had texted him back. 

He could almost hear her voice in her messages: ‘Why are you telling me this? I haven’t talked to the man in months.’ She even added a series of eye roll emojis.

Well, that was that. Viktor would just have to avoid Yakov in the meantime. It was just too sad to see the memory loss happening before his eyes. But it didn’t account for why he was acting as if the day was like--yesterday.

And how the whole arena seemed to feel like it did… _yesterday_.

“Mr. Nikiforov, are you all right?”

Viktor startled momentarily before dropping his face into a smooth smile to turn to a man who approached him. “Yes, just scoping out the competition.”

The prominent physical therapist who interrupted his thoughts barked a laugh, and in Russian, “As if you need to. Looking forward to another gold, Mr. Nikiforov.” 

“Heh, well.” Viktor found that he couldn’t form the words in response. 

“I’ll see you out there, champion,” said the man, clasping a hand on his shoulder in goodbye. Viktor’s shoulder felt stiff under the weight of the man’s other hand. 

That stiffness stayed with him as he prepped before stepping onto the ice. It lingered just like the lingering eyes of the other skaters practicing. He thought of the PT calling him “champion” as he settled into a practice run.

If there was anything he knew, it was being on the ice. He knew the others were watching, but it was expected. At least this would shake off whatever unexpected feeling was building up in him. He ran through his exhibition skate as something to keep his mind blank. And it worked, leaving him lost in his moves for who knew how long.

When he came to, he startled yet again. Closer than expected, he suddenly heard a man call out to him on the ice, “Well! If it isn’t Viktor Nikiforov!”

Viktor turned to see his competitor from Canada approach him on the ice. How… odd… that he greeted him like that; it almost sounded familiar. He shook it off and greeted the dark haired man back. 

“How fortunate we meet on the ice right now, days before the competition,” the other man barked out a laugh. “You see, I wanted to--”

“I’m sorry,” Viktor interrupted, sudden irritation creeping in at the word “days.” “I’m not feeling too well, so I’m just about to head out.”

“Oh, well, I--”

“I’ll see you on the ice tomorrow,” Viktor stated with finality.

“Tomorrow!” The Canadian man looked pleasantly surprised. “Did you want to practice together then?”

Skating away, Viktor didn’t respond. How strange that he was focusing on practicing together when the competition was already tomorrow. But Viktor didn’t want to think about that since he had already been feeling so good after getting some skating in.

He pulled off his skates, noting that Cao Bin walked in. They nodded to each other, very similar to the day before. He looked at the time. It was even around the same time as yesterday.

This similitude was seriously getting tiresome. He almost wanted to ask the man from China what he thought about all this weirdness - but the thought was a fleeting, stupid one. Why would he think they were closer than they actually were? Because they played nicely with each other every competition? Nodded to each other the day before? Viktor shoved his skates into the locker dedicated to him at the rink, needing to get out as quickly as possible. 

Glancing at his watch, he realized it was almost the same time as when he saw Yuuri Katsuki in the hallway. After what happened with the man last night, he didn’t want to think about his Japanese competitor at all, especially not passing by the spot where he found him crying yesterday. So he resolved to make his way to the main hall, perhaps already going back to the locker room or hotel to shower and prepare for another round of interviews.

As he got closer to the main entrance, he heard two high pitched giggles.

“It’s Viktor Nikiforov!”

“Oh my gosh, we’re big fans!”

He whipped his head up to find the same young women who had asked for selfies yesterday.

“What?” he said dumbly as they both approached him excitedly.

“Ah! It really is you! Would you believe that the last time I was at the GPF a few years ago--”

“We took a selfie?” he interjected. “And now you keep it as your background?”

“Yeah--I guess that happens pretty often,” the girl giggled nervously. “For you, I mean.”

“You wouldn’t believe how often,” Viktor mused absently, mind away. A moment too long passed, marking the uneasiness of the situation. 

One of the girls tried to say, more bumbling than what he heard before, how she was a fan since she was little. He looked between both girls, who increasingly seemed to be regretting their decision to come up to him now. One of the girls tugged the other’s arm, in an attempt to get away cleanly. 

“ _Viktor_! Mind if I cut in?” he heard the familiar, silky voice of Chris come up behind them. “It seems like our special VIP members are interested in some pictures with their favorite skaters, no?”

He winked at the two ladies, both visibly relaxing under the Swiss’s gaze. He gathered the four of them together into a selfie.

“Give us a grin!” he said, arm extended and other hand lightly pinching Viktor surreptitiously. 

Viktor automatically pulled into his smile for the fans, and let it rest on his face until the two girls finally left. He turned back to Christophe, who met his eyes. They seemed to mirror the stiffness in his own face. 

“Okay, cherie, tell me what’s going on.” 

The smile on Chris’s face was rigid, but it was his eyes that belied his concern. This wouldn’t be how Chris would act if he were pulling on a stiff one on Viktor… would it? Was Chris in on this eerie day? Is that why he stepped in?

Viktor huffed, and, frustrated, pulled Chris away until they found themselves in an unlocked storage room. He locked the door behind them, for good measure.

“Oh, kinky,” Chris purred as Viktor rounded back and grabbed the bottle blonde’s upper arms.

“Quiet.”

Ignoring him, Christophe asked with a worried smile, “Are you okay?”

“How are you getting everyone to fuck with me?” Viktor asked, a twinge accusatory.

“Viktor, I’m pretty sure you can bat your eyes at anyone and they would fuck you,” Chris replied coolly.

“Not fuck me, fuck _with_ me,” he corrected.

Chris squinted. “I’m not sure I--understand,” he said hesitantly.

Viktor groaned. “Come on… with everything being exactly the same as yesterday?”

His brows rose so high that it almost reached his short blond bangs. “Uh, I think we’ll need to sit down and you explain this to me. I’m not following you.”

“Like, come on--all _this_.” Viktor waved an arm around them to prove a point. "Happening yesterday."

Chris stared blankly. Viktor stared back. 

“Are you telling me we ended up in a cleaning supply closet yesterday?”

“Well, no, but that’s because this is different!” Viktor moaned in frustration. “Do you mean to tell me you’re _not_ experiencing the same day again?”

“Viktor, really, are you okay? How much have you had to drink?”

“None that I’m aware of.”

"Maybe you ought to get at least one drink in you today." 

“Am I on shrooms?”

“It would explain a lot, mon cherie. But no, you act much looser while on them, not this… panicked mess.”

Viktor shot him a look. “Thanks.”

Chris’s concern was clear on his face, and he placed a hand gingerly on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m serious. What’s up?”

That seemed to shake Viktor out of his panic. He could see the concern clear as day on Chris's face, something that unsettled him. He had to reel it back before he freaked his friend out further, like he was internally. 

He smiled, careful and calmly, so as to not alarm him anymore. After all, nothing seemed to be coming out of _this_ conversation anyway. “Nothing. I must be having competition jitters.”

“...Right,” Chris nodded slowly. “Must be competition jitters.”

Viktor knew it was a long shot of an excuse, but at least it seemed to have steered Chris off the nosy path at least. 

“We should grab lunch, or see the sights or something to get your mind off of it? I could introduce you to my new choreographer?” Chris attempted at another invitation.

Earlier in the day, Viktor perhaps would have agreed. But now, he made up some excuse that Chris hesitantly accepted before parting ways. 

“Well. Go rest to get yourself back in your zone,” Chris smiled sympathetically before leaving the small room.

As Viktor sat alone in the supply room, he tried to take stock. He had to clear his mind. Clearly, something was up, and so he had to assess it logically. The day before, he wandered for longer than this, and then filmed the commercial. So, if he only went with the flow, maybe he could get to the bottom of this. 

Viktor sought out to do just that, doing exactly what he did the day before. Greeting the same people, with similar comments as before. Filming the commercial with the same directorial turns, same exact moves from before. Though, he did receive more suggestions about loosening up and to smile more. 

His skin crawled with how unsettling, how uncanny each moment had been. 

And after they ended filming, he couldn’t even muster the energy to skate as he had the day before, instead pacing until he found himself wandering the hallways, still trying to avoid the same hallway from earlier, the one he found Yuuri Katsuki crying in. 

Though the feeling was rare for him, Viktor certainly could understand the need to cry at the moment. It felt like he was going to burst out of his skin. And that feeling built up, as he paced the arena.

It took Viktor a moment… many moments… to realize that something _truly_ was strange. He considered the possible explanations here and counted them off. 

OK… One. 

He could just still be sleeping, and this was all a dream. Yes. That was logical. He was just lucid and in control of his body in this very strange dream. And it did make sense to have such a strange dream because he was feeling the competition season, especially at its peak.

“Viktor~! Good luck!” Two women walking by said simultaneously, before giggling. He waved awkwardly at the female skaters who passed by him--at the same exact place that they had passed him yesterday--and thought, ‘Well what if it’s not a dream?’ It certainly felt too real for it.

Two.

Maybe this was all a prank, and Chris and Yuri and everyone was in on it. Maybe it was one to throw him off his game for the competition. Well he was stronger than that because, as everyone knew, he was _Viktor Nikiforov_!

Or maybe… three!

Was he on some reality show that tricked world renowned celebrities and athletes? He whipped his head around to look for cameras and an aged Ashton Kutcher to come out of the corner. But--that was unlikely, especially considering it was the day before his competition, and there was no sign of the Grand Prix Final starting up for the juniors and ladies competitors. Plus, Yakov would never stand for that. 

Which threw a wrench in his thoughts. Yakov and Yuri would never go along with some stupid prank or reality show, considering that it would jeopardize the Russian team’s name. 

So, four.

Did he actually go out last night with Chris or Evgeny and Yulia instead of going straight to bed? Maybe he took a bunch of psychedelics, like he did a handful of times in his early twenties, and now he’s just reliving the day in his high. 

Unlikely, since he distinctly remembered how that felt--all colors and shapes and waves, and less so with full blown hallucinations.

Five.

Along that line, perhaps he had a stroke and lost his memory of the last year, and was just reliving the previous Grand Prix Final.

‘Ugh!’ he thought, frustrated, before he said out loud, “Get it together, Nikiforov. It must be this damn weather, or the stress. Gotta rest or--or take a moment.”

He was taken out of his thoughts to find the storm blaring--thumping away on the window panes just as it had yesterday.

“Are you OK?”

Viktor whipped around and saw Yuri eating from a bag of chips.

“Ah! Yuri, _no_ , no, I mean, no, no need to worry about me!” He let out a nervous laugh. 

“Uh huh,” he said, tossing a chip into his mouth. “Like that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.” 

“ _Look_ \--Yuri. I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m just having a lapse in focus, need to nap before competition.”

“You usually do that on the day of your competition, not two days before.”

“Ahh--you pay attention to me, that’s so sweet,” Viktor plastered on a smile, grateful for the subject change.

“Of course I pay attention to you, you old man. Everyone is always paying attention to you. It’s always that way.”

Viktor frowned, that irked feeling making its way back to his chest again. But remembering his current predicament, he decided to pull away from Yuri. 

“If anyone asks, I’m resting for the big day.”

Without another word, he rushed his way back to his hotel room. He barely heard Yuri yell something after him, so focused on getting away. Surely he just needed to clear his head and sleep it off. It was just some lapse in mental strength and, if he could just get a little better at being stronger in wills, he’ll be good.

By the time he got to his hotel--in record speed--he focused all his attention onto relaxing so that he could sleep it off, no matter how early it was. With all this pacing, however, he was going to burn a hole in the carpet of his hotel room. ‘Mental strength,’ he reminded himself.

To calm himself, he figured it was as good a time as any to call and check if Makkachin was settled in with her dog sitter.

With shaking hands, he phoned the familiar number of his usual sitter. “Vanya? Hello.”

“Good evening Viktor. I wasn’t expecting a call from you today. Are you in Sochi?”

“Yes, I’m here in Sochi.”

“Is everything good? Did you need something?”

“Yes, yes, everything is good. I just wanted to call and check on my Makka.”

“Sure thing. She just went on a long walk, so she’s too tired to speak with you on the phone. But I can take a picture or call back with video if you want!”

“No, that’s not necessary. I just wanted to know if she was doing well.”

“Ah, anything for the champion. You know she and I get along nicely. We’ve gotten to know each other very well, isn’t that right, girl?”

He could hear a soft, tired boof over the phone in response. The sound made his heart squeeze.

“Of course. It’s why I’ve relied on you for so long.”

“Mm, well, did you need anything else for me?”

He hesitated, but finally said, “No. Thank you. Have a good day.”

“You too--and good luck in a couple of days!”

His throat swallowed. “Right. A couple of days.”

When she hung up on him, he stared down at his phone. 

The numbers mocked him. He thought of Yakov and what he thought was dementia, of Chris and his judging eyes, Yura’s bizarre comments, the Japanese man’s tears and the fans’ with the ingratiating comments and Makkachin back at home. He thought of the fact that he must have been so much more stressed than he realized as he glared at the date. The time and date read that it was the afternoon of December 8th… a whole two days before the Men’s short. 

His fingers twitched before he pulled his arm back and threw his phone across the room. There was a resounding smack as it made contact with the cheap hotel paneling. When he saw the ding on the wall, he closed his eyes. He didn’t even want to look at it, and didn’t even give it a passing glance as he got ready for bed. 

This incredible nightmare will be resolved in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient and thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> “Maelstrom” has always been a favorite of mine, as I am SUCH a sucker for Time Loop AU. I just wanted so much more of it. As a result, I was so inspired and just kept coming back to this plot for months. I tried my best to keep it separate from the other fic, to the point that I hadn’t reread it at all from the start of my writing to my posting this.
> 
> Despite having started writing this story so long ago, I've been hesitant to post because 1) I was nervous about the similarities to other stories, and 2) this is incredibly self indulgent, written largely because I listen to the Groundhog Day the Musical OST a little too much. My story largely takes from the musical, to which I'll make references throughout, including each chapter title and quote.


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